


Holy (Good Omens Oneshots)

by bloom11332



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, OTP Feels, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Protective Crowley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:42:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20655143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloom11332/pseuds/bloom11332
Summary: Our oblivious couple in different situations :)





	Holy (Good Omens Oneshots)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here, sooo enjoy! Sorry for bad writing, I'm only just getting back into creative writing...

It wasn't long after their trails after Heaven and Hell came for them again. They struck when Aziraphale and Crowley finally went their separate ways; Aziraphale was cosily snuggled into his tartan sofa, reading, relaxing. Meanwhile, Crowley was in his beloved Bentley, driving back to his flat, boy did he need a nap after the events of the Apocalypse-that-wasn't.

The unnerving feeling the angel got in his stomach was the first warning. The second was the small jingle of the bell above the bookshop door. He should've noticed, should've known, really. Before another warning came, Gabriel was in front of him, a sword in hand. Now that was no ordinary sword. It was holy, made in Heaven, making it one of the most dangerous weapons in the world. Aziraphale started to panic internally, suddenly regretting not asking Crowley to stay longer.

Don't get me wrong, Aziraphale could hold his own in a fight, he used to be a soldier after all. However, that was a _long_ time ago, and not against an Archangel. 

"Azriaphale, I never did understand how you haven't fallen already... You have caused us a lot of work, every single angel up there despises you. I've come to sort out the problem myself." Gabriel announced, his usual disgust towards him showing. 

"I thought I told you to stay away? And what makes you think a sword will kill me if Hellfire did nothing?"

"I never did listen to anything you had to say. And well, Hellfire may not hurt you, but anyone and anything can be killed by a physical wound, even if the holiness of it will not hurt you."

Before Aziraphale could do anything, Gabriel lunged towards him, the sword embedding itself in the angel's side. Aziraphale didn't feel it at first, until Gabriel pulled the sword out. The world seemed to sway, the shock registering in Aziraphale's brain, as he fell back. Now sitting on the floor, clutching his side, he braced for the next swing. This was the end, wasn't it? 

_Crowley. _All the things left unsaid... All the times he rejected him...

As the sword swung down again, he closed his eyes. _I'm sorry dear. I'm sorry I could never say it._

"What the Fuck do you think you're doing? Get the fuck away from him." Came a snarl, venom dripping from every word. Aziraphale's eyes snapped open, and there he was.

Crowley was gripping Gabriel's arm, which was mid-swing, the demon's strength obviously surprising the archangel. Snapping out of it, Gabriel moved away, out of Crowley's grip, but also away from Aziraphale. 

"Oh look who's here Aziraphale, your demon boyfriend, here to the rescue. I see the demons failed in getting rid of you again." Gabriel snapped, annoyed.

"Get out of here before I turn you to the pile of ash, you bastard." 

"You think you can threaten me? A lowlife demon like you? You're hilarious." Gabriel swung at Crowley, only narrowly missing him, but the demon wasn't having it, fighting back, and successfully pushing the archangel into the coffee table, the candles scorching the pristine blazer. 

"I will be back, Aziraphale, and next time your demon boyfriend won't be there to help you." Gabriel snarled, disappearing after putting out the flames. As soon as he was gone, Crowley rushed forward towards the angel, who was bleeding severely on the floor. 

"A-Angel? Where do you keep the first aid kit? It'll be alright, you will be alright." Knowing full well going to the hospital won't be helpful, the demon went to get the kit, going as fast as possible.

"Crowley, dear, no need to rush, it's just scratch."

"Just a scratch? Don't give me that crap Azirphale." The use of the angel's full name surprised Aziraphale, but not as much as the waver in Crowley's voice. He sounded... scared? 

"I'm going need to take your top off, to stitch you up. Can I?" The angel just nodded, grimacing slightly as he shifted slightly. Crowley, on the other hand, was too mad and scared to be flustered at the situation. Silence followed as Crowley treated the wound, apologising softly every time Aziraphale so much as winced. The tension in the air was thick, and Aziraphale couldn't stand it.

"I guess you can really call me Hole-y now." That joke was what broke the silence, though the effect was the opposite to what he wanted, as tears spilt out of Crowley's eyes as he withheld a sob.

"Don't you dare, Angel. If I wasn't here at that exact moment, if I wasn't there, you would've died. Like for real, forever, for all eternity. Do you even realise- Do you even- I can't even think about that. Angel, if you died here, I don't know what-" The crack in his voice was clear, as his voice softened towards the end. More tears spilt as Aziraphale reached up to dry them.

"Dear... I didn't die, you saved me and I know that you will always be here when I'm in trouble. I'm sorry... for everything." 

"Everything? You don't have anything to apologise for, just... please be careful."

"Thank you, Dear."

"Anytime, Angel."


End file.
